


CCXIII things Hilarion is no longer allowed to do in the Roman army

by Carmarthen



Category: Frontier Wolf - Rosemary Sutcliff
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-21
Updated: 2011-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-23 22:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmarthen/pseuds/Carmarthen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavros stared at him for a long moment. “In the future, centenarius, clothing is to be worn for drills. Not paint. And your pay will be docked for this little stunt.”</p><p>“Oh, do we get pay now, sir?” Hilarion asked in a tone of polite interest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	CCXIII things Hilarion is no longer allowed to do in the Roman army

**Author's Note:**

> This is not exactly what I wanted my first foray into _Frontier Wolf_ fandom to be ("Epic," I thought, "plotty and adventuresome, full of feelings and Sutcliffian descriptions"), but then Smillaraaq said that there was probably a list of things Hilarion wasn't allowed to do, along the lines of [Skippy’s List: The 213 things Skippy is no longer allowed to do in the U.S. Army](http://skippyslist.com/list/), and I could not stop myself.
> 
> Thanks to Smilla, Hedgebird, and Sineala for suggestions of things Hilarion is not allowed to do, and for general enablement.

It was not so often that a legate inspected the latrines, and Hilarion might have been able to use that as some kind of defense--except of course he knew that _this_ legate was quite the stickler, and he did not care at any rate.

The hardest part was keeping a straight face as Tribune Corvinus turned several interesting shades, finally settling on purple. It was quite a good caricature, Hilarion thought smugly.

The _best_ part was the quickly suppressed twitch of the legate’s lips as he glanced sideways at Tribune Corvinus.

 _I. I may not draw rude caricatures of my commander on the latrine wall, even if the legate thinks it is funny.  
II. Especially if the legate thinks it is funny._

* * *

“Hilarion!” someone shouted across the Via Principia, in familiar tones of apoplexy. Hilarion briefly considered dropping the armor he was polishing and making a leg for it, but the new recruit--Lucanus or Lucullus, something like that--was already upon him, sweaty and disheveled and red-faced as if he had been running in the sun. “What in the name of Mithras did you tell me to ask the cook?”

“Oh,” Hilarion said innocently, ready to duck and rather hoping he could get out of this one without a black eye. “Did I say _mutos_? I meant _yutos,_ ‘broth.’ _Mutos_ is ‘cock.’ I am afraid I have spoken Latin so much of late that I confused them.”

 _VIIII. I may not teach the new recruits inappropriate British phrases under the guise of helpful instruction._

* * *

“This time it was ferrets,” one of the sentries murmured as Hilarion slouched past, throwing them a lazy salute. “Centurion Martyrius can’t stand ‘em. Lucius Galba said you could hear the scream all the way from the barracks.”

The other shook his head. “Well, if he weren’t taking old Give-Me-Another as his model, he might find his bed free of wildlife. The man who put the ferrets there had better hope old Martyrius doesn’t catch him at it.”

Hilarion had been disappointed that the ferrets hadn’t come with afterbirth, but apparently they had been an inspired choice all the same. He whistled all the way back to barracks.

 _XXX. The following items do not belong in the centurion’s bed: pregnant cats, pregnant dogs, any other pregnant animal, or ferrets.  
XXXI. In fact, all animals should remain outside the centurion’s quarters._

* * *

“This,” Vindex said suspiciously, his eyes crossing as he tried to peer at his own shoulder, “does not look anything like a bull.”

“I said I knew how to ink,” Hilarion said, “not that I was the flower of artists, to draw anything recognizable on a man who could not hold still for more than a moment at a time.”

Hilarion ducked just a hair too slowly, and found nightfall came unusually early that day.

 _XXXVI. I am not permitted to give anyone inking in the manner of the Tribes._

* * *

“Signifer,” Centurion Gaius Cordius Naevius said, his eyes dancing but his tone serious, “what is the meaning of this?”

Hilarion glanced down at himself--he thought it was rather a lovely tunic, a sort of soft pink that accentuated his eyes, and he knew that Lucanus’s woman Melita in the town had done a perfectly fine job with his paint. Really, he made rather a fetching woman. “I lost a bet, sir.”

The centurion shook his head and sighed. “Latrine duty again, Hilarion.”

 _XXXXII. I am not permitted to attend morning inspections in a woman’s tunic and makeup, no matter which bet I lost.  
XXXXIII. Or inspections at any other time of day._

* * *

The mistake, Hilarion thought, had not been in telling Gaius Naevius he had pretty eyes. It had been in what he said after that.

Some time later, facing him across a table piled high with scrolls and wax tablets, Gaius regarded him, with only a flicker of disgust penetrating his coolly professional expression. It was not at all how he had looked at Hilarion before, when they had laughed and diced and hunted together, and Gaius had sometimes slung an arm over Hilarion’s shoulder and leaned against him when they made their way back from the tavern.

He had terribly misread the man.

“I have put in a transfer for you,” Gaius said, “to the frontier, because I thought you a friend and a good soldier. Be grateful it is not a discharge.”

 _LV. It is not wise to tell my commander he has pretty eyes.  
LVI. Or pretty anything else.  
LVII. I may not proposition my commander for indecent activities._

* * *

“Centenarius Hilarion, _what_ is the meaning of this?” Hilarion had heard the same words in many voices and many tones over the years, but rarely in such a controlled roar.

Everyone on the field of the mock battle froze. Some of the men brought their shields down to cover themselves, suddenly feeling more Roman, but Hilarion didn’t bother. He squared his shoulders and faced Ducenarius Julius Gavros. “The men were getting fidgety, sir.”

“Fidgety,” Gavros said, his voice dropping ominously. “And you thought that stripping naked and charging through drills like a bunch of screaming barbarians was the solution?”

“They’re not fidgety now, sir.”

Gavros stared at him for a long moment. “In the future, centenarius, clothing is to be worn for drills. _Not_ paint. And your pay will be docked for this little stunt.”

“Oh, do we get pay now, sir?” Hilarion asked in a tone of polite interest.

For a moment he feared he had gone too far, but then Gavros laughed and said, “Very well, you are not permitted to gamble for a month.”

Hilarion sighed a little at that; in all his years with the Eagles, Gavros was the first commander who had realized that enforced boredom was the only punishment short of flogging that had any effect on him.

“Fun’s over, lads,” he told the Wolves, who had been carefully avoiding eye contact with either him or the ducenarius. “Back into uniform!”

 _CX. We do not conduct mock battles naked like a bunch of screaming barbarians.  
CXI Even if we are a bunch of screaming barbarians.  
CXII. While weapons define the uniform, clothing is still not optional.  
CXIII. War-paint does not constitute clothing.  
CXIIII. The formation is called “testudo,” not “act like that animal with, er, its house on its back...not a snail....”_

* * *

“Skin-changers, Hilarion?” Gavros said with a sigh, later. “And did you have to needle the lad so?”

For once, Hilarion did not make a joke, but came over to lean on the ducenarius’s desk and said quite seriously, “I had to know, sir.”

Gavros pressed his hands to his temples, suddenly looking much older and more weary, and for a moment Hilarion wondered how many of those lines he had put there--but he had made his commander laugh near as much, he thought; he had tried to. “What did you have to know?”

“I had to know why he made his choice at Abusina. If he was--arrogant, or callous--”

“I see,” Gavros said, and then, surprisingly, he stood and came over to clap Hilarion on the shoulder. “Good night, Hilarion. I hope you will be as loyal a centenarius to young Alexios as you were to me.”

 _CLXV. I may not imply to new officers that the Frontier Wolves are skin-changers.  
CLXVI. Even if they are green as grass._

* * *

“I do not think you were a virgin,” Alexios said suspiciously, after. “You seemed to know quite well what you were doing.”

“I...might have exaggerated a bit, sir,” Hilarion said, rolling over and wrapping himself around Alexios before it could occur to his commander to do something silly, like leave.

“Hmm,” Alexios said, narrowing his eyes, but he brought one hand up to rove gently over Hilarion’s arm. “Don’t call me ‘sir’ while we’re here.”

“In Belgica?” Hilarion said, widening his eyes. “I should think that might pose some problems for the chain of command.”

Alexios swatted him lightly. “In bed, fool.”

“Very well, my honey dove, light of my life, o pearl of soldiers--”

This time Alexios shuddered. “I suppose I prefer ‘sir.’”

“I thought you mi--” Hilarion began, but then they were kissing and that was even better than annoying Alexios. And now, he thought, with a feeling that made his lips curve in a smile under Alexios’s questing mouth, he could annoy Alexios _and_ kiss him, every day.

Life was sweet.

 _CCXI. I am not, in fact, “overcome with virginity” every full moon and in desperate need of aid from my commander.  
CCXII. I may not call Alexios ‘sir’ in bed.  
CCXIII. ...unless I can come up with something he hates more._

**Author's Note:**

> The graffiti scene is inspired by a scene in Rosemary Sutcliff's _The Capricorn Bracelet_. I would like to apologize to Sutcliff's gorgeous prose for this entire story.
> 
> "Give-Me-Another" was the nickname of a Centurion Lucilius described by Tacitus, whose men eventually mutinied and killed him over his habit of beating them until his vine-staff broke and he had to call for another.


End file.
